


glory to the night

by vicepoint



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbophobic Language, One-Sided Amberchase, One-Sided Victaylor, Pre-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicepoint/pseuds/vicepoint
Summary: Victoria blames it all on Rachel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _I'm not happy or sad, just up or down_   
>  _and always bad._

 

Dana doesn't know what the hell she's doing.

It's nights like these where she's just another victim of the Vortex Club — light and giggly but somehow totally fucking exhausted. She anchors onto each friend she encounters with her free hand (the one that's not grasping a red cup like a handy _I'm Drinking_ signpost), stabilizing herself, talking loudly, before forgetting what she even said and moving on to start anew. Whether you want it or not, it’s just what the Vortex Club does to you. That's the thing: she's sober enough to know she's doing ridiculous things, but drunk enough to do them anyway.  

Which is probably why when someone suggests she get in the pool — well, she does. She doesn't remember exactly how it happens; how she got from fully-dressed and dancing with Juliet to barely-dressed and _swimming_ with Juliet — but she does know she’s starting to regret it all. It was Juliet who said she'd need her bikini under her clothes. Now she’s in the corner of the pool making out with some boy, and Dana thinks the only thing she _actually_ needs is more friends.

"—Having fun?"   

The music is loud and bassy and forceful but Rachel Amber's voice still slices through. And holy shit, she's _sparkling_.  

"Hello?" she giggles, and Dana blinks back at her.

It's glitter, she realizes. On her cheekbones. In her lip-gloss. Reflecting in the disco lights and the swimming pool's shimmer.  

"Having fun," Dana repeats. Then she goes, "oh, yeah", and laughs, because, _yeah_ , yeah she is. That's what she's supposed to be doing now, right?

Rachel just grins back, teeth gleaming and bright. With a glint in her eye and a tug of her own bikini strap, she asks, "You coming under?"  

Dana stares back at Rachel, the water waist-level and rippling around her as she wades nearer. She leans in close, a devious smile on her face, then whispers.  

"I'll probably pull you under anyway."

For just one, long moment, there's silence. Only her. Rachel Amber, her smile like a threat, center of the vortex.  

Before the world resumes.   

Rachel's head snaps around. She waves at someone who's calling her from the VIP section, then glances at Dana somewhat apologetically.  

"Just messing with ya. I'd ruin my makeup anyways." A weary expression wavers, eyes flitting downwards, but then she's smiling again. "Have a good night, yeah? I'm gonna bounce."  

"Don't worry about it," Dana says, because she knows that Rachel never stays in one place all night, and no one with sense would dare cage her.  

Dana slips away when people start shouting for a song that she's not really into. The party's fizzling out naturally at this point; some people are disappearing and leaving wreckage in their wake, others follow when the music becomes too loud for an emptying, echoing room.  

She finds herself frowning at their messes, because she's going to have to clean this. Not tonight, probably, because clean-up is always meant to be On The Day, yet always ends up being The Day After—but it’s Vortex Club duty. And as long as it's Vortex Club duty, Dana's caught in it regardless. It's not like Juliet's gonna get her hands dirty.  

She drips water all over the floor as she makes her way to the bathrooms, which is surely a safety hazard that her brain (or anybody else's in the room) isn't processing. She just needs a towel. She pulls open the door to the changing room with force, mumbling ' _I need a towel_ ' when the body leaning against it complains. She needs a towel, and she needs to drink a gallon of water, and she needs to get back to her dorm room, and she needs to get to bed—  

Her train of thought is interrupted when she steps into the changing room.  

Somebody sits in the dark, hunched over the locker room benches. Not feeling the Vortex Club vibe tonight either.

"Sorry," Dana says, even though she didn't do anything wrong. "I'll just be a sec."  

It's only when she stumbles into the cart of pool floats (god _dammit_ ) that the other person looks up, glare illuminated by the blue glow from a cell-phone.  

"Who is that?" she calls, a strange quality to her voice, frown fixed on her face.   

It's Victoria, Dana can see that now. She sniffs, then speaks again. "What is it? Do you want something?"  

Dana studies Victoria's face, the crease in her brows, then opens her mouth—but she isn't quick enough. Victoria is _not_ fucking around. She bolts upright at the speed of light, and confusion and nerves force out Dana's shrill "It's me, Victoria! It's just Dana!"

Victoria stills, phone in hand, purse in the other.  

"I'm grabbing a towel," Dana explains, pushing the cart of floaties away. It hits the block of lockers with a clang and Victoria grimaces. Still, she holds her gaze as Dana grabs a towel from the stack on the shelves and waves it limply.  

"...got it."  

Victoria raises an eyebrow, but her expression relaxes just slightly. "Hmph."  

Dana doesn't know where to look. Victoria's eyes are so intense.  

She should go.

...but she doesn't.

"Are... were you... okay?" Dana asks, attempting something. She's not sure what. Consoling, perhaps. Unintentional probing, maybe.

Victoria scowls again.

"You're _wasted_ , 'Just Dana'," she says.

Dana laughs only out of surprise.

"Me? No. No, I'm—"  

"Hey. T-tell me," Victoria continues as though Dana didn't speak at all. She moves towards her jerkily, slumped body now energetic, then slurs, "Whad Rachel say t'you?"  

Dana tries to take a step back and stumbles again, but Victoria's sudden grip on Dana's shoulder keeps her on her feet.  

"Wait. What'd you say?" Dana asks, squinting at Victoria like the only reason why everything's going fuzzy is poor eyesight.  

" _Rachel,_ " Victoria enunciates the word like she's speaking to a toddler. She shakes Dana's shoulder lightly, still spotted with water droplets. "What did she say. To you."  

"W-When?"  

"Earlier," Victoria says, sharp and impatient. "When you were being all fuckin’ lesbo in the pool."

"Wh—We were just talking. Why, what's up?"  

"She mention me?" Victoria asks, but as soon as she says it, she winces and averts her eyes. "N-Nothing. Never mind."  

Dana frowns slowly.

"Victoria, are you—"  

"I'm _fine_."  

"Ow, your hand!" Dana squeals when Victoria's grip gets a little too tight. Victoria releases her quickly, but stays close as Dana rubs her own arm.  

"Uh, the _hell_? You're… strong. Ouch.”

"...I didn't mean to—to..." Victoria eyes flicker across Dana's bare skin, the tassels hanging from her bikini top.

Dana watches her silently; eyes trained on that confused, concerned scowl. She genuinely looks worried, which, for some reason, makes Dana feel bad.

"Whatever, it’s cool," she says eventually, trying to give a casual, sympathetic smile. Victoria doesn’t smile back. "It's okay," Dana reiterates. "And... are you sure you're doing alright? These parties can... they can get kinda wild, sometimes, y’know?" she adds gently.

Victoria looks back up into Dana's eyes again, and Dana swallows. Her gaze is heavy and saturated with something that Dana doesn't quite make sense of. _What is it?_ , she wants to ask, but they're really, _really_ close right now, and there's something about the idea of making her lips move so close to her face that seems scary and she's not sure why.

The one thing Dana is sure of, is that this – is too quiet.

" _Um-yeah-so_ do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?" Dana blurts way too loudly, so much so that Victoria actually startles, which was maybe the point. "So you get there safe? And... stuff?"  

"No." Victoria pulls away, frowning again. "No, no, no. Go with your– your fuckin' friends."  

Dana presses her lips together.

"I'm just— looking out for you. You seem kinda messed up right now, is all. Should we find Rach—"  

"Christ." Victoria turns away sharply. "Dry yourself off or something. Y-you're a fuckin' mess."  

"What?" Dana's voice is light with confusion. "No, I'm—I’m fine. I've kinda sobered up now, and—"  

"Take a hint, Dana," Victoria spits, eyes like steel, tone like poison. Dana’s fists clench at her sides as anger bubbles up and threatens to spill.

"You're being—" But Dana manages to cut herself off, biting down on her tongue.  

 _Difficult. Mean. Nasty. Unreasonable. Insufferable._  

Telling her that won't help a thing.  

"Fine. I'm telling Taylor," Dana settles on, folding her arms. Victoria just snorts.  

"Okay. See what she can fuckin' do." She snatches her coat from the bench before heading for the door. She sends Dana one last cool, hesitant look before answering herself.

" _Nothing_. Nothing."

 

* * *

 

 

"Vic, come on, you know I'd do anything for the club—"  

" _T_."   

Victoria's finding it hard to stand Taylor's worried eyes when they're boring into her just like that. Her expression is gentle, softened by empathy or habit—but confused.

"Stop. I'm serious," Victoria says.

Taylor sits perched on the edge of Victoria's bed, delicate and fragile as though she'd crumble to the touch. Without breaking eye contact, she pulls her long braid of hair over one shoulder and fidgets with it.  

"Don't mess that up," Victoria chides quietly. "Took me fifteen minutes."  

"Yeah. Sorry." Taylor lowers her hands and instead drums her fingers on her lap. "I just—I don't... I don't get why you—why we'd pick her. She... she doesn't even wanna be there, most of the time. She didn't even apply like we had—"  

"She does. She wants to be me," Victoria cuts in. She watches for Taylor's reaction, but Taylor just looks down at her knees. Silent.

"Look, I just mean... she skips the meetings, and she's always running around with, like, that drop-out chick, or, God, _Bowers_. And... I don't know. She's not focused. I don't... I don't think she cares enough about this. I don't think she cares enough about you."  

Victoria purses her lips.  

"I mean—I'm not saying that—"  

"Taylor," Victoria warns.  

Taylor breathes out.  "I don't think she's right for this."  

"I can keep an eye on her this way. Make sure she doesn't fuck shit up," Victoria says.  

"Or we could just ditch her."  

Victoria stifles an empty laugh. "Nah, nah—Not an option."

"But why? I thought you hated her, Vic, I don't get it—"  

"Don't you trust me, T?" Victoria interrupts, voice rising over Taylor's questions upon questions upon _questions_.  

Taylor hesitates.  

Victoria turns in her desk chair slowly.

" _Do_ you?"  

"...yeah. Of course."  

Victoria breathes out through her nose.  

"Well."  

She tosses her cell across the room, open on Rachel's contact page, and Taylor scrambles for it.   

"Text her," Victoria says.  

She just looks back. At Victoria, down at the phone again, back up at Victoria. A swallow, then a nod.

"What should I say?"  

"That she's planning the next party with me and Nate. She's coming to every meeting. She's telling us her fucking ideas. She's gonna help with prep. She needs to prove that she's fucking worth this, or she's done. Give it a month. It's gonna be ten times better than the last one." Victoria looks through her dorm room window, talking to herself now. "The last one sucked ass. We can do better."  

After Taylor drops her phone beside her on the bed, she leans against the wall and pulls her knees up to her chest. She's quiet.

Victoria swallows any sympathy.

"It's all about choices, T. Not preferences," she assures her. "You know, there's a difference here."  

Taylor meets her eyes over folded arms.  

"...I don't see it."  

"Well. Believe me."  

Victoria looks away, back outside the window again. A lone blue jay flies past, and is gone before a rain shower starts to begin.

"I know what I'm doing," she lies.

 

* * *

 

 

Dana’s in the corner of the room — busying herself with boxes and tablecloth, pointedly avoiding the gaze of other Vortex Club members — at least, until she hears Rachel’s voice. It gives her the courage to call out her name.

Rachel turns swiftly, feather earring swaying, eyes wide and caught off-guard for just a moment. And it's always for just a moment that Dana catches a glimpse of Rachel like that. Unready, unprepared, unpoised. But the moment ends with what looks like her recalling some invisible script, stepping back into the spotlight with ease.

"Dana! I thought that was you." She skips over. "No Jules today?"

Dana smiles in return, pushing away the box she's rummaging through then smoothing down her jeans.

"Juliet _should_ be helping. Too busy with Blackwell Totem business, apparently." She sucks in a breath, then releases it in a sigh. "Pretty urgent stuff."

Rachel nods in consideration as Dana pulls out another box.

"Well, that fucking sucks," she says bluntly. "Nobody likes a flake."

"Yeah. Anyways. What are _you_ doing here?" Dana asks, partly because she's curious, and partly to distract herself from the whole Juliet situation.

Rachel looks down at the plastic containers in front of Dana idly, placing a hand on her hip.

“I run this shit,” she states.

She knows what Rachel’s claiming is far from true, but everything falling apart without Rachel present seems believable too, so she nods and smiles.

"Wasn't aware you became Nathan and Victoria combined in, what, a half hour of being exposed to them?" Dana teases, sitting back on her heels.

"Oh, yeah, well it _is_ a vigorous process," Rachel chuckles, eyes flitting back to the two in question.

Dana follows her gaze across the room, and rolls her eyes almost immediately after spotting them. Victoria's showing Nathan something on her phone and Nathan's showing about as much interest in it as he shows in anything besides drugs or booze these days. Dana shudders, remembering when she thought he was cool — before then remembering how many people still do.

She questions what exactly's keeping her in this club. The ‘events management skills’ are fit to throw in her resumé when it’s all over, and the parties _are_ unlike any other, but… it’s stressful. Sometimes she wishes she just stuck to cheerleading and only that, or picked book club, or, _hell_ , Kate's bible study. Why not? Kate's the sweetest, and honestly, right now — kneeling on a dusty gymnasium floor, staring at Nathan Prescott — _anything_ else seems more appealing.

She turns back to Rachel again, wondering if she's thinking the same thing.

Her expression is a little distant.

"I'm not keeping you, am I?" Dana asks.

" _God_ , no," Rachel scoffs, teasing eyes back on Dana's again. "Steal me more. Please."

Dana smiles and looks down. "That bad, huh?" she asks, starting to pull more table covers out from the boxes.  

"I could be overreacting," Rachel says. "But I'm probably not."  

"So, what's going on?"

Rachel leans against the table beside Dana.

"Not enough," she snorts. "And Nate's arguing with everything I'm saying. I don't _get_ him, honestly. I think he likes me, then I say some shit about my friends or the guests or the dancing and he's all snippy and grumpy again. Like, what?" Rachel glances back towards him again, shaking her head.

"Well, you should ignore his crap," Dana says firmly. "You deserve better than that."

Rachel looks back down at Dana again with a faint, strange sort of smile, then her eyes wander again.  

"I want to get him," she says.  

Before Dana can process that, Rachel's hand suddenly slams down on the table, legs swinging.  

" _Fuck_ , Dana. What about Vic? Her too, jeez.”

Dana frowns in thought.

"What do you mean?" she asks, shoving the box under the table and rising to her feet again.  

"Like, what do you think about her? You don’t think she’s just. Different. That there’s something more to her?"

Dana blinks, unsure of Rachel’s intentions.

… But then she thinks of the last Vortex Club party. Of meeting Victoria, half-drunk in that dark changing room.

She never did tell anybody about that. Taylor was already running after her as soon as she left, and she obviously got back to her dorm okay, and there wasn't really any need to bring it up again—but it's still been in her mind.

(Her questions about Rachel. Her grip on her arm. Her eyes so close to hers.)  

Stagnating.  

"I guess," is all Dana replies. Rachel looks her up and down, expression slowly darkening.  

"...you don't think I'm bitchy, do you?"  

"What? No." Dana frowns. "I didn't say that."  

"It's okay, I'm sure lots of people think I'm a bitch. I don't know, I wasn't sure if you—had any... never mind. Probably came across really whiny and two-faced, right?" She’s smiling as she says it, which gives Dana pause. But then she shakes her head.

"No, no, no, gosh, I don't think you're a bitch," she says, sitting the table covers down on the table. "I think you probably just want to... help people. And I think you're curious. And I think... that's fine! If you, like, care what I think."  

"Aw. Of course I do, why'd you think I asked?" Rachel chuckles, reaching out her hand to pinch Dana's cheek. "Sweetie. Thanks."  

Rachel watches Dana and smiles faintly. "You're not gonna blush, are you?"  

" _Rachel!_ " Nathan shouts.

Both Rachel and Dana turn to see Nathan and Victoria staring at them. Victoria’s arms are folded, Nathan hovering nearby.

“Get over here!” he yells.

Rachel blows out air, eyes rolling into the back of her head.

"It appears I have been summoned," she quips, her voice a low whisper. "Gonna have to catch you later."  

"That’s fine.” Dana smiles tightly. “Good luck.”

As Rachel hops off the table, she glances at the empty box underneath.  

"Huh. Could probably stash some party favors in there,” she mumbles, then winks. "Well, thanks for the kind words, cutie."   

She starts walking away, calling "Seeya at the party!" over her shoulder. Dana’s still smiling.

At this point, she’s counting on it.

 

* * *

 

But it just happens all over again.

Victoria doesn't know what she's doing fucking wrong.  

It’s the same way, same circumstances, same old, same old. Maybe Taylor was right. Maybe she should just ban Rachel from these parties. Would serve her right. _For what?_ (She doesn't know.)

She's not _here_ , again. You'd think she'd be invested in the party _she_ planned. It's so boring, this is so boring, this is useless useless useless she's  _useless_.

She wants to leave. She wants to go find her. Go and fucking ask her, "What's so fucking important?" Go and ask her, "Why do you think you're better than this?" Ask, " _How_ are you better than this?" If she's the most important person here, then why is she not in the VIP section that she characterizes so perfectly? Why can't she ever stay still? Why can't she just  _stay_?  

Victoria would only be disappointed if she knew. She'd find her fucking some guy on the football team, or running off with the girl who was expelled, or fucking the girl who was expelled, and she's not even completely sure if it's the fucking and the running off that bothers her so much (but it _does_ , God, it does). Does Rachel even know what she's doing? Where she belongs? Who she belongs with? Does she even know what she wants?

It's evidently not Victoria. Victoria isn't in any of her many, many equations. Rachel’s smart. She thinks about these things. That's clear. That's obvious.  

Preference _and_ choice.  

No wonder.  

 

Victoria gets so wasted she can't think properly.

It’s a lot worse than last time.

 

The thing is, Victoria thinks, around six shots down the line: Nathan drifts too. But at least he lets her _know_.

Texts. _getting mor beer_. _meetin frank real quik_. _brb vic._ Anything. Poor thing actually gives a shit about her.

So she pulls out her phone. It's pathetic, but she can blame this on being drunk if she fucks up tremendously.  

 **_Bicth_ **  

 **_Wher r you_ **  

 **_Think ur too kool 4 this dump?_ **  

 **_Come party with us_ **  

**_or me_ **

She stares at the _Sent 12:03am_ 'til the clock says 12:11am and she longs to launch her phone into the fucking swimming pool.   

At 12:19, Taylor starts dancing up against Victoria, and she's laughing (and it's been some time since she's seen her laugh, genuinely laugh), but she can't have that.

“No,” she says to Taylor, who either can’t hear her or is deliberately ignoring her. Taylor’s facing away from her, so Victoria touches her shoulder —  but Taylor just places her hand over hers and keeps dancing. Victoria yanks it away.

Taylor turns around, eyes sad and heavy.

Victoria’s playing Taylor like a fucking fiddle and Taylor knows it. She deserves better. She deserves something.

"Gofindcourny," Victoria mutters. It's the first time she's spoken a full sentence since she started chugging those vodkas, and her voice no longer belongs to herself.  "Court. Ney," she clarifies. Taylor mumbles in protest, but slinks away eventually.  

At 12:30, Victoria thinks she's consumed more alcohol than her and Nathan's mothers on a Friday night combined. She laughs at the thought. It's not funny at all.  

At 12:45, her phone starts buzzing, continuously, ringing, vibrating like her heartbeat in her chest. She doesn't check who's calling, just picks up and falls through the sea of bodies until she reaches the door.  

It's Nathan's voice.  

"Wha's wrong?"  

Nothing's wrong.  

"Where are you?"  

He's doing lines in his dorm room with Hayden. He’ll be back soon.

"Why’re you c-calling me?"  

To say hey.

"Okay."

There's silence at the other end of the line.

"Safe," she says. "Be. Be safe."  

Then she hangs up.  

And it feels like the call lasted forever, but her phone says it’s only been a couple of minutes, which is the kind of mindfuck that has Victoria stopping just to gather the remains of her thoughts. She takes a few moments to look up at the sky and get lost in it, wishes that the pretty sparkling stars peeking through the gaps in the clouds would come crashing down. Fall to earth and speak to her, kindly letting her know that they don't like where they came from either.

They don't.

And it's fucking cold out here.

Her phone vibrates again, and she squints at the screen.

**_Where’d u gooo_ **

**_miss you_ **  

**_Toriii??_ **

She sniffs, trying to reply, but her fingers are heavy and hitting too many keys at once.  

 ** _no Im ou side_** **_busy busy_**

 **_Don’t come fkn find me_ **  

 **_just stay at the prty sweet T_ **  

Taylor's reply is fast.

 **_Whatt? Come back to the pool n u can hang out with me? <3_ **  

Victoria glances back towards the gym building before responding, **_i cant._** , and it feels like the first time she's been honest about something in too long.

She turns and heads the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

 

This time, Rachel’s whispering in Dana’s ear, out of sight and pressed against the brick of the gymnasium wall. Their faces are close but Dana can't really register what she's saying before she pulls away again, just as fast as she plunged in.

"What is it?" she asks.

Rachel doesn't respond, just presses her lips together and stares at her phone screen.  

"Hey?" Dana repeats — only because she wants to hear the rest of Rachel's story. If it means she'll step back into Dana's space or lean into her like that again too, well, so be it. Her perfume smells good, after all.

"Hm?" Rachel looks up, the frown on her face relaxing. "Ohhh. Yeah, nothing."

The phone vibrates again, and Dana's eyes trail down to Rachel's hands again. The wrist-tattoo of a star's outline catches her eye, right before the text notification does.

"Victoria—"

Rachel locks the phone just like that.

"Uh, _nosey_ ," she laughs – a nervous, breathy sound – before fixing Dana with one of her dazzling smiles and moving closer to her. Her voice is smooth again. "She's just making sure I'm having a miserable time, that's all."

"Why?" Dana asks gently.  

Rachel glances away, then laughs.

"It's complicated. She used to be nicer. But now... she's. Troubled, I guess. Doesn't let people enjoy themselves. Probably doesn't mean it, you know? But people like... Taylor, for example. What's she gonna do about it? She's vulnerable. Esteem issues everywhere. Hangs onto Victoria like she's life support. It's easy for people, especially when they're close, like best friends, and when they rely on the other, to just..." She trails off. "Use that."

Dana stares. She feels too drunk to understand anything Rachel just said.

"Never mind. It's just how she is, you know?" Rachel smiles.

Dana doesn't know. Or, at least, she has no idea _why_ she is how she is. She catches Rachel's eyes again. Then she sighs.

"I don't feel like I know her. I would try and get to know her, but. I think she'd push me away or something. How do you even do it? You guys seem a little closer, now. Kind of. Are you?"

Rachel just smiles another one of her smiles. Dana feels as though there's a thousand words behind it, in a language she does not speak.

"You shouldn't have to worry about it," she says.  

"Worry?" Dana repeats. She's not sure if what she's feeling is frustration or confusion. Maybe both.

She's genuinely curious. Unsure why, but definitely curious, because Rachel thinks there's something more to Victoria, and Victoria's been texting her, and how _does_ Rachel make friends that easily, anyway?

It could just be the alcohol, but Dana wants to know what's going on in Rachel's mind. Know her, through and through.

She shakes her head. "I'm not worried, I just—"

"You're so pretty, you know that?"

Rachel moves forward very quickly all of a sudden, pressing a kiss to Dana's cheek. Rachel’s hair brushes Dana’s lip when she pulls away, and Dana short-circuits, frozen.

"So pretty," she repeats, a satisfied look on her face. "Have a good night, for me, okay?"

Rachel steps away.

Dana stares. Thaws, just slightly. Watches as Rachel's figure dissolves into the party.

Something inside of her is screaming, and her lips won't let it out.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes Victoria nearly five minutes to get the front door open. She drops her keys, once, twice, then it takes another five to trudge upstairs—but she gets there eventually. The floor feels like it's moving beneath Victoria's feet, and the hall is empty and dark save for a light shining through the door beside her own.  

She drags her body to the shower-rooms. Forces herself to look in the mirror. Sees nothing right. Turns on the faucet until only the sound of water surrounds her: harsh white noise and drowning in it.

_Get your shit together._

The door opens. Victoria does look around, but no, it isn’t Rachel. The night’s already over. Everything is.

Victoria knows she won’t manage a coherent sentence right now, so instead she settles on, “Again?”

Ward stands there like a deer in the headlights. Stock-still, eyes wide.

“Oh. Oh,” she looks around dazedly, “Wh-what?”

Victoria fumbles with the faucet, cutting off the stream. “Again,” she repeats, “‘s you again.”

“Oh. You mean…”  

Dana closes the door, hands clumsy behind her back.

Victoria fights the urge to ask who gave her permission to come in here. To enter Victoria's space. Catch her off guard and observe her like she's feral.

Dana clears her throat.

“You mean... you remember? About... last month...”

Victoria looks back down at the sink again, gripping it with both hands, fingers curling over the edge.

“ _Obfiously_ ,” she slurs. “Not gonna be all, ‘oh, I see you every fuckin’ day, but shit, there you are again, I’m so _surprised_ ’. No. Last month. Whatever the _fuck_.”

Victoria knows she’s not making sense. Dana’s face tells her that.

“You still… don’t wanna talk about it, then.”

Dana’s walking closer. Victoria narrows her eyes at her.

“No? No. Okay.” Dana shrugs, shoulders loose. “What a coincidence though.”

“What’re you _talking_ about?”

To Victoria's complete and utter dismay, Dana just starts giggling.

“Are you fucking drunk?” Victoria asks, then shakes her head, exasperated by her own failed insult. “Right. D-dumb question. Everyone’s fuckin’ drunk. Party spirit.”

“Spirit and liquor,” Dana confirms, “T-that’s the coincidence. We were drunk last time, too. And you were being _weird_ , and we were in a dark room. Away from the party. Alone.”

She’s been thinking about this, Victoria realizes.

She leans away from the sink, eyes dipped, lips parting for words that don’t come.

“And you left the door open, too,” Dana says quickly. “Coincidences, right.”

Victoria blinks.  

“I… what?”

“I mean, I had my key anyway... keys. For the dorm entrance." Dana waves her hand in the air, smiling. "But if I didn't, I would've gotten in fine, thanks to you!”

“Are you b-being sarcastic?" Victoria asks, because unfortunately, she really can't tell.

"Victoria," Dana says lowly, and Victoria grits her teeth because she hates the way her name sounds in Dana's soft voice. "You saved my ass, that's all. Thanks. Thank you. Is that okay? Me thanking you?"

“Fuck off, Dana."

"Woah. No need. What's the need—"

"Stop patronizing me, you—"

"I'm not!" Dana's voice goes high and irritating.

"That's it. I'm leaving," Victoria says, shoving past Dana and towards the door.

"W-wait, no, ugh, I fucked up, I'm sorry, what did I— it was something I said, right?" Dana's reaching out to Victoria and Victoria shrugs her hands away.

"It's just _you_ . I don't _like_ you," Victoria responds. "Keep your fucking voice down."

"Wait, no," Dana whines when they stumble into the corridor, and Victoria turns 180° on the spot. Dana crashes into her and Victoria pushes her away.

"What are you doing?"

They both ask it at the same time.

"Trying to—"

Again.

"Stop fucking doing that—"

"You're talking when I'm—"

Victoria lets out a scream of frustration. It's not loud enough to wake people up, she thinks, but it's enough to shut Dana up.

"Oh my God. Stop, stop and leave before I _make_ you."

Victoria's voice is hoarse, strained like she's been shouting all night, but she keeps on pressing, backing Dana up a few steps.

"Like, what are you— why are you j-just harassing me? Don't you have anything better to do? Don’t—don't you have _friends_?" Victoria snaps, voice wavering mid-sentence.

Dana bites her lip, back pressed against the wall. The worst thing is, the only emotion Victoria is able to recognize on her face while this woozy is pity.

It just pushes her forward.

"Do you have any r- _real_ friends? _Anybody_ who gives a shit about you? At all? Jesus, you're so goddamn desperate— _look_ at this. Can't you just leave people _alone_ ? Can't you s-sleep? Go to fucking bed. Sleep. Go the fuck to sleep like a _normal_ person. Oh, f-fuck. Here's a better idea: go to bed and _fuck_ someone—actually _fuck_ someone!—'cause it should be _easy_ to find a boy to fuck at this spermbank of a fucking school, w-why can't you just fucking fuck some _guy_ like a _normal_ person—like a n-normal gir—"

Victoria chokes on her own words somewhere.

"Like—" she hisses out, but it feels like someone's sitting on her chest, and she can't breathe anymore, and she's just gasping for words and air and—

She almost forgot Dana was there. But now her forehead's pressed against her shoulder, and Dana's apologizing quietly, and she's too drained to fight her any longer. Not like this. Not about this.

She just wishes she'd leave now. She's in the way of the wall. Victoria could easily lean against that instead.

"I'm sorry," Dana repeats, barely a whisper.

Victoria's eyes squeeze shut.

Why the fuck is she even sorry? What did she even do? Victoria doesn't remember how this happened. Why any of this matters. Why she's like this.

"No," she simply replies. "Fuck. You didn't—you didn't do—whatever. I'm just gonna—" She shakes her head. "Ugh. Seriously, what did you want?"

She leans away, but Dana's hand remains clasped around Victoria's arm. She's staring back; worry, confusion, relief all clear on her face.

"I— I couldn't work out what I did. I didn't want to make you mad. But I get it. I think."

Victoria rolls her eyes. How could _she_ get it if Victoria doesn't?

"I just— we don't talk a lot. And I thought after our—uh, you know, we'd maybe have an opportunity to? But then... anyways, I just think you're..." She frowns, trailing off. "I'm only saying this because I've been drinking, probably. I just saw you were upset, and I wanted to help. The first time, I mean. I didn't mean to be annoying." She breathes out deeply, then meets Victoria's eyes, continuing with a note of confusion, "Or... desperate?"

Victoria swallows, looking off to the side.

"What about the second. The second time."

"...huh?"

"If you _wanted_ to help the first time, what about now?" Victoria asks.

"I mean... if you need it now, then I'd try to help, but—"

"No," Victoria interrupts, impatient. She shakes her head lightly, but it's pounding so hard that even that slight movement is torture. "S'not what I mean. What were you wanting to do? What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh." Dana pouts, eyes wandering to the side-window. The moonlight strikes her face from the angle.

Victoria notices lipstick smeared on her cheek around the same time Dana says Rachel's name.

"She... she was talking about you."

Victoria wants to pretend not to care about it. Instead, she asks, "Tonight?"

"Yeah," Dana nods. "And—and a little while ago too."

Victoria feels sick.

"R-right. So. The fuck was she saying, then?"

"Uh." Dana frowns, narrowing her eyes. "I don't know. Stuff about you. As a person."

"Bitch."

"No. No, it wasn't—I don't think it was bad things—"

"What's this got t-to do with you?"

"Hardly anything! She just made me— I wanted to be nice, okay?"

"Why?" Victoria huffs. "To treat me like a charity case or something? Are you an idiot? You do realize I'm worth more than your whole family, right?"

"It's this! This—this is what I'm talking about—what she's talking about. Something's wrong. I just wanna—"

" _Fix_ me? Don't be so fucking dumb. You'll never _be_ like her."

Dana's mouth hangs open. Victoria looks her up and down.

"It's true," Victoria says, tilting her chin up to meet Dana's eyes, unapologetic. This _must_ be what Dana’s trying to do right now. Fix her. Change her. _Manipulate_ her. Dana's hand drops from Victoria's arm as Victoria continues. "She—she thinks she can just walk into people's lives and fix everything. It makes her feel good because she's such a fucking disaster. But all she does is fuck things up. You don't _want_ to be like her. You shouldn't like her."

"I—"

"Don't like her,” Victoria demands.

Dana looks to the side again. "That's not very fair of you. She's not a disaster. She’s just a teenage girl, it’s not like… it’s not that _serious_..."

"What has she told you, huh? That I'm mean? Or that I'm different? That she _knows_ me? She's just _stupid_. What did she say about you? That you're better than the Vortex Club? That you're nice?"

Victoria scans Dana's face for any sign of recognition, her eyes flickering back to the lipstick smudge.

"That you're pretty?"

Dana looks back to Victoria's face again, swallowing and shifting under her gaze.

"She's just trying to get closer to you. She'll mess you up. She'll use you."

"Like you use Taylor?"

It takes a moment for Dana's words to process, but when they do, Victoria starts burning. Her eyes are stinging when she pushes Dana away.

Dana's back thuds against the wall and she looks surprised at both herself and Victoria, eyes wide and apologetic.

"I didn’t mean—"

"None of you know me. You spend _five_ minutes with her—" Victoria shakes her head, patience wearing thin, her voice breaking. "Are you fucking her?"

Dana's mouth snaps shut.

Victoria stares into her eyes, willing an answer to come from them. They flit around, avoiding Victoria, looking everywhere else all at once. A few seconds later, her mouth catches up.

"I— We— She's a friend— Of course we’re not— Why'd—" she sputters.

Victoria waits for Dana to crack and crumble.

"I'm not… like..."

Victoria's eyes close. Of course she's not. She's too normal. It's only the fucked up girls, right?

"I mean, there's nothing wrong with..."

"Neither am I." Victoria's eyes snap open again. "That's not my point."

"...so what is your point?"

This is starting to feel like self-harm.

_Just get it over and done with._

"Do you think she's hot, Dana?"

It tastes like tar dripping out of her mouth, just speaking it; giving the thought a voice, _her_ voice.

But Dana's face goes through a journey in front of Victoria's eyes, and... maybe Victoria was wrong.

Thirty seconds later, Dana answers, "Yeah. Everyone does."

Victoria nods shortly.

Yeah. Everyone does.

Rachel's using this girl too.

"Still, that doesn't mean I’m... Like, it's totally normal for a girl to think... not 'normal'— you know what I mean, she's..."

And messing with her closeted ass.

How the fuck does Rachel get away with this shit?

She's not even _here_ and she's ruining Victoria's life. Everything about her fucking existence makes Victoria feel nauseous. How she thinks she knows everything, how she's better than everyone, her _body_ and her _hips_ and her _hands_ on Victoria's waist; her vanishing the very next day and pretending Victoria doesn't exist and texting Nathan and hugging him in the hallway and taking one of the only things Victoria's good at from her as if she _knows_ what’ll hurt her _—_ smiling at her from across the classroom like nothing's happened and winning Jefferson's attention and the very fucking fact she can get close to a girl without feeling disgusting—

She drives Victoria crazy, and Victoria wants her gone.

Dana's been staring at Victoria's lips for the past whole fucking minute.

 _Fine_ . _See what you're missing out on._

She grabs a fistful of Dana's blouse with one hand and her face with the other, plunging forwards and smashing their mouths together. Dana knocks into the wall again and she breathes in sharply through her nose but then, for some unknown, stupid goddamn reason, she kisses back.

(Which makes Dana the third girl Victoria’s kissed.)

It's not what Victoria intended.

She's not too sure what she _did_ intend; maybe it was to scare Dana off, to make her realize that messing around with girls at Blackwell doesn't end well – maybe it was just because Victoria's tired of pretending and rejecting and being so fucking alone. It’s not like Dana isn’t pretty.

But this is just another accident.

The first; at a slumber party, now nameless and forgotten, a friend in Seattle who found it just as weird and uncomfortable as Victoria did kissing boys. The second; Rachel Amber, who kissed her first. Rachel, who kisses everyone first. Rachel, who requires too much figuring out and no further explanation both at once.

And now this.

Dana giving herself to Victoria like she has _no_ self-worth whatsoever. Victoria thought Dana just opened her mouth in surprise, but nope, that definitely happened of her own accord— she’s sloppy and unpracticed and it’s only when Victoria tastes the rum off of her she remembers how fucked up this is, how fucked up she is; taking advantage of a half-wasted closet-case— _JUST LIKE YOU_.

She can’t do this.

She’s a fucking monster.

She tries to pull away softly at first, and she winces when Dana just moves into it, falling forwards, holding Victoria’s sides. Victoria doesn’t know if Dana’s just stumbling around now or if she actually wants this to go further, but either way she’s making poor choices and it’s all Victoria’s fault.

“Mm— _stop_!”

She’s holding Dana at arms length now, and Dana’s eyes flutter open.

Why does Victoria do this to every girl in her life? Ruin them. Is she any fucking better than Rachel?

Dana’s eyes go dramatically wide all of a sudden.

“You’re crying,” she says.

“I’m not,” Victoria says. Dana reaches out to touch Victoria’s face and Victoria turns her head sharply.

She’s still hung up on this caring act. It’s going to take more than rejecting her to get her to stay away.

“Stop. Whatever that was is over, dyke.”

Dana blinks slowly, tilting her head as if she didn’t hear her right.

“Victoria…”

“No!” Victoria hisses. Dana still looks confused.

Victoria won’t let her shaking frame and voice betray her. Her next, “ _stop_ ”, is more convincing, because Dana’s frowning for a split-second, then she’s looking absolutely terrified.

“Oh, God,” she whispers. “I didn’t do that, did I?”

“ _Leave_ ,” Victoria says, tasting salt on her lips. “Go! Fuckin’ drunk mess.”

She isn’t talking about Dana.

Dana’s eyes still well up before she scampers away. Victoria stays in the same spot until she hears the click of Dana’s door closing.

She finally rests her head against that wall.

She’s not crying anymore by the time Taylor comes out of her room, silently taking her back to bed, unquestioning, leaving her only when Victoria tells her to.

 

Rachel enters the dorms later, loud and giggling with a girl whose voice is familiar but Victoria can’t quite place it. They’re joking about how shit Vortex Club parties are.

By the time they drunkenly profess their love for one another, Victoria’s crying again.

 

* * *

 

 

Nothing happened that night.

Dana didn’t do anything. Victoria didn’t do anything.

She thinks it every time she sees Victoria in the halls, in the showers. She thinks it every time someone asks about that party. She thinks it when Juliet asks her where the hell she was all night. Why she slept in all her makeup, smeared mascara down her sheets.

She thinks about quitting the Vortex Club, briefly.

Rachel beats her to it.

Dana wonders if Rachel knows, somehow. When she smiles, bright and omniscient, if she knows all the things that go on during those parties. If she knows how many minds she’s in all at once.

Dana goes to another one, and spots Rachel there. She averts her eyes like the sight of her burns.

 

* * *

 

Victoria still lets her in, despite it all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> _[Somebody please, tell me no, tell me no, tell me no, tell me no](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z75dfNGmCn8)_
> 
>  
> 
> god, this has been in the works too long.
> 
> thank you to [Recourse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse) for the amount of beta-ing this required, and for generally being an amazing supportive pal through this big mess. <3
> 
> talk to me in the comments!


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